Mediterranean Mess
by GayTrashLord666
Summary: During a time of economic recession, Antonio and Lovino have a fallout. The Italian is depressed over the sudden changes in his boyfriend's behavior and his brother Feliciano takes him out to party. When he meets a strange man at the bar, he's taken on a wild ride full of affairs and secrets. How well can he hide his new lover? :Human AU. Portugal x Romano x Spain. On Wattpad.:
1. An Average Day

_**Chapter 1: An Average Day**_

This is honestly my first fanfic on this site so forgive me if it's a little weird.

* * *

Lovino hated work.

It was meaningless at this point in time. 2008 was the year every nation in the world was practically beaten to death by the sudden financial crisis that struck the globe. Many called it the Second Great Depression. To Lovino, those people spoke the truth. Except money still had some value to it. However, buying a movie ticket now in 2018 was more expensive than buying a movie ticket when he was a child back in the 90s.

Lovino didn't even have a boring job. It was rather fun working at his friend's restaurant in Rome. He met the guy, Kiku, through his brother. The two weren't nearly as friendly with each other as Kiku was with Feliciano—though Feliciano was almost always the one being friendly—but he was one of the view people Lovino could be civil with and not have to make an effort with it. Totally unlike his brother's German "friend" who he was convinced was screwing his brother while he was working the night shift.

Anyway, even though the Italian hated working, he knew someone had to pay the bills. His younger brother was still attending university and was barely making a living off of selling his art. They were amazing pieces, he had to admit, but it seemed no one was interested in buying them.

"If you went to New York those American bastards would pay you a million dollars!" Lovino once told his brother. "One day you'll get to go and leave this place behind!"

Lovino didn't always get along with his brother, but he cared about him. Ever since their grandfather passed he's had to care for the younger Italian. He watched him grow and become a charming, skillful young man. He'd never admit it, but he was proud of his brother, and he only wanted what was best for him. He'd sacrifice his own life if it meant giving his brother the opportunity he needed to _be_ somebody in this world.

But Lovi couldn't keep such a promise. Nearly every cent they had was spent on bills and groceries, and they were barely able to save enough for a down payment on a car. It was a damned lemon, though, but it was the cheapest thing they could get that worked. Lovino often drove it to work since he lived in the next town over in the ghetto, whereas his job was right next to Vatican City. When he wasn't doing that, he was visiting his boyfriend, Antonio, who lived all the way in Spain.

Antonio lived in an apartment in Huesca, a few miles to the northeast of Madrid, and worked as a chef in a three-star restaurant. It was owned by his aunt when he was younger, then his cousin became the manager when she passed a few years ago from stomach cancer. Lovino had only visited the place a few times but never got to meet either of them.

To Lovino, Antonio... Well, he needed some work.

The Italian sighed as he trudged into his apartment and thought of his lover. He and Antonio had been dating since long before the recession, and things were going great. They were happy and in love, and Antonio consistently sacrificed himself for the younger man despite the latter's disapproval. He'd take Lovino on dates twice a week, showered him in gifts on holidays, and spend all his evening hours with the Italian.

Two years into the drop, and it was like he became an entirely different person.

Antonio would ignore Lovino's calls and texts. He'd forget the other's birthday nearly every year and would promise to visit for Christmas only to never show up. Lovino tried visiting him a few times instead, but he wasn't at home or work any of those times, and his calls would still be ignored. And all the late evenings they'd spend watching a sappy rom-com, or stargazing in a park late at night, or just making love as the moon reflected its light off their skin? Ha! It was like all of it was just some fever dream.

The man would just go get drunk instead.

Lovino hated it. Hated every second of it. But what could he do? He could only speak to Antonio if he paid a visit to him at work before following him home, and most of the time Antonio would be doing double-shifts. By the time he went home, Lovino was already too tired and would pass out the moment he sat on some furniture. When that didn't happen, the situation would always turn out like this:

"Hey, bastardo, what the hell is wrong with you lately?" he'd ask.

"Lovi, _Dios mio_, not now."

"No! You ignore my messages, never visit me or Feli, and when I finally see you you act like I don't exist!"

"Lovi, I'm tired. Can you please not do this?" the man would growl.

"_You're_ tired? Antonio, _I'm_ fucking tired! Tired of your bullshit!"

The man would spin around, glare hard at his boyfriend, and hiss, "If you're so fucking tired then go the fuck home already!"

Then the Italian would reply with, "Maybe I fucking will!" before storming out of the apartment and flooring it back home.

Tonight happened to be one of those instances.

Lovino was exhausted, and his face was flushed red from all the emotions he had been holding during the ride home. When he noticed his brother was out for the evening, probably at class, he made a bee-line for his bedroom, slammed the door shut, threw himself onto the bed, and cried well into the night.

_"Three years," _was all he could think. _"Three years of this, and I'm sick of it."_

Lovino clung to his pillow that night, sobbing quietly into it before darkness consumed him and he fell into a dreamless sleep. The morning was sure to be better. He was positive about that.

It hadn't been that way since their first fight, and it certainly wasn't that way when he woke up.


	2. Invite

_**Chapter 2: Invite**_

* * *

Lovino woke up when it was still dark out. His eyes, much darker than his brother's, opened slowly as they were met with the stars in the night sky twinkling out his window. The bed creaked with his movements when he lifted himself from the tear-stained pillows he slept on, and he looked over to see someone standing at the door.

The light from the hallway peered in, casting a shadow over Feliciano's face. The younger brother smiled at Lovino.

"Ciao Lovi," he whispered.

"Feli?" the other groaned. "What time is it?"

"Three in the morning."

Lovino cursed under his breath. "Well, I'm too awake to sleep now." Then, remembering last night's events, he scowled at the other Vargas. "Where were you last night?"

Feliciano's smile turned into a small frown. "Luddy took me out to eat. We were in Caprini's. The one down the block from the market?"

"Yeah, I know. What were you doing?"

"We were hanging out," he explained. "We were supposed to go with Kiku, but he was busy. So we went by ourselves. Just talked and ate."

"Right..."

"I'm serious!" Feliciano walked further into the room. "He told me about his coworker from France. He owns a club in Ibiza, and he wanted to know if we'd like to go with him."

Lovino's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I thought he wasn't the party type?" he questioned. That much he knew about the German. He was stern and focused. Always dressed formally, even when just meeting Feli's family. Something you wouldn't expect a man to show up in a full suit for.

"He isn't, but he knows we like having fun. Come on, Lovi. Join us!"

The brunette shook his head. "Absolutely not. I have work. Bills don't pay themselves you know!"

Feliciano's frown shifted into a scowl, and his eyes turned hard and cold as he stared at his brother. He stormed over, firmly sat beside Lovino, and turned to him.

"Lovi, you've been stressed out. You think I couldn't hear you still crying when I got home?" Feliciano let out a sigh. "I'm worried about you. You always worry over Antonio, or fight with him, and you end up like... Like this!"

The younger brother gestured to the room and to Lovino's red, puffy eyes. The older, feeling ashamed, turned away from his sibling.

"I'm fine," he reassured him.

"Bullshit."

Lovino spun back around, his eyes wide as he gasped in horror. "Feliciano!" he cried.

"I'm sorry, but it's true!" Feliciano stood up again, waving his arms wildly in the air. "I'm not saying to break it off, but I think you should be doing something besides working and fretting over your relationship. Go out, have some fun!"

"Feli..."

"Lovi, wanna know the last time I ever saw you smile? Genuinely smile?"

Lovino didn't answer. He looked up helplessly at his brother, who's expression softened in the darkness. Feliciano sighed again. His arms fell to his sides, and his gaze to the floor.

"We were in a bar. It was you, me, Antonio, and Kiku. You were just finished with work, and we were all drinking. I've hadn't seen you so alive! Not since... Not since Grandpa..."

The other didn't need to finish his sentence for Lovino to understand. He looked down as well, biting his lip as he tried to hold back more tears. They both missed their grandfather, and his death left a damaging toll. Lovino grew depressed and nearly dropped out of school, and if it wasn't for Antonio he might've done just that. Feliciano wasn't any better. He ended up failing an entire semester and almost had to repeat a year.

Lovino replied, "So that's it? Just go out and party. That's all you want from me?"

Feliciano nodded. "Just for one night, Lovi. I don't like seeing you stressed out. It's why I scrambled to get whatever money I could for university. You know that..."

The Italian dawned on it for a moment. He knew this was unhealthy. The worrying, the chasing, the fighting, the sleepless nights where he'd cry himself into an unconscious state. All of it was hurting him, and he knew he had to end it somehow.

"Maybe you're right... How bad could one night be?"

Lovino couldn't see it, but his brother was smiling again. It was a small one. A smile a mother would give her child when they finally listened after hours of arguing. He sat back down next to his brother and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"It'll be okay, Lovi. Just this one night, and I won't ask you to do it again."

"Alright, alright. I already agreed, stupido."

Feliciano jumped up with a cheerful shout, and Lovino rolled his eyes. "Great," the younger said. "We'll be heading out around four."

"What, tomorrow?"

"Si!" Feliciano chirped. "I already told Kiku, and he said if you agreed he'd let you have the evening off!"

"But Feli-"

"Nope! You agreed, now you're stuck with us! Besides, Kiku promised to come too. You'll just have to work Sunday afternoon instead."

Lovino sighed. "Alright. If that's what it takes. I'm going back to bed."

Feliciano gave a nod. "Buona notte fratello!"

"Buona notte, fratellino."

The younger Vargas brother didn't stop smiling as he turned on his heel and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Lovino stared at the door where Feliciano left for who knows how long. When he finally realized he was alone in the dark again, he sighed once more and laid back down. The tear stains on his pillow were gone, and he was enveloped in warmth rather than the harsh cold he faced earlier that night.

He threw the cover over himself, shimmied about to find a comfortable spot, and closed his eyes when he deemed himself ready for sleep. It didn't take long for Lovino to succumb to the dark again. Only this time, the experience was far more pleasant.

After all, he had excitement waiting for him when the sun rose.


	3. Party Time

_**Chapter 3: Party Time**_

* * *

Lovino woke again when the sun was finally in the sky. He groaned as he opened his eyes, turned over in bed, and glanced at his digital clock on the nightstand. It was almost noon, and he had an errand or two to run before they headed towards the airport.

The Italian crawled out of bed and walked towards his dresser. He opened a drawer, grabbed a few things, closed it, and headed into the bathroom. After his routine of brushing teeth, showering, and all else, Lovino returned to his bedroom to get dressed. Picking a simple t-shirt and jeans he headed out with his wallet and keys towards the market.

The market was a little area full of goods near Lovino and Feliciano's apartment. Almost everyone there knew the two brothers, and it was the one cheapest place for them to get their groceries.

Lovino walked around and bought what he needed before heading back home. With numerous bags in his hands, he struggled to make it up the three flights of stairs it took to reach the apartment. He opened the door, walked in, closed the door, and went into the kitchen to put everything in its place.

As the oldest brother was putting the last of the groceries away, Feliciano walked into the room.

"Fratello?" he asked. "Where did you go?"

"Market," came the quick reply. "We needed some things. Figured I'd get them before we head out. What time is it?"

"Three'o'clock. You should change so we can head on to the airport. Luddy's got the tickets ready."

Feliciano turned to smile at his friend. Lovino didn't even notice he was there. The older Italian rolled his eyes as he shut the fridge closed.

"Whatever. I'm going to change."

"Take your time, fratello!"

Lovino brushed past his brother and walked to his room, shutting the door behind him. He didn't have a lot of clothes that'd be fit for clubbing, but he did have some stuff from his brother's graduation that looked nice.

Dressing in a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, tight denim jeans with a brown belt at his waist, and black dress shoes, Lovino deemed himself ready to go. He walked out of his bedroom with all his necessities (phone, wallet, keys, etc.) and was greeted by his smiling brother.

"Fratello! You look great!" Feliciano chirped.

He rolled his eyes, a barely noticeable blush on his face. "Grazie...stupido..."

Feliciano giggled at him. "So we're ready then?"

"I believe so," Ludwig said. "The taxi is waiting outside."

"And you're paying for it, right?" Lovino asked.

The German nodded. "Of course."

The Italian narrowed his eyes at Ludwig, but said nothing. He followed the pair out of the apartment, locking the door behind them, and downstairs into the taxi. It wasn't a long car ride to the airport. They went through the whole process of security and identification before they waited at the gate.

Only a three-hour flight. What could go wrong?

* * *

As it turns out, Lovino _hated_ flying. He never typically had to take an airplane before. After all, he hadn't left Italy since he was little. Even then, they took a car. Not an airplane. So that was a fun bit of discovery. Too bad he spent about half of it throwing up in the bathroom and the other half clinging onto his brother for dear life as they both ascended and descended. Feliciano and Ludwig both desperately tried not to laugh at that.

The sun was already beginning to set when they exited the airport, and Ludwig called another cab. They all climbed in, and it didn't take long for them to get to the club.

Ibiza was one of the most intense party cities in Europe as far as Lovino knew it, and it seemed this club reflected that perfectly. The moment he stepped inside he suddenly went deaf with how loud the music was, darkness reached every corner the neon lights above couldn't reach, and it reeked like sweat and puke.

Lovino tried to maneuver through the crowd, but it proved difficult. Everywhere he turned people were bumping into one another, grinding on each other, and was that a guy in a panda suit dancing around? Probably American. Those guys were always up to some weird shit.

By the time Lovino actually managed to find a comfortable spot where no one was only an inch away from him, he had already forgotten where his brother and his friend went.

_"Probably off dancing or something. That potato-bastard better not hurt my fratellino..."_ he thought bitterly. _"Might as well have some fun myself while I'm here."_

Lovino looked around and, to his pleasure, spotted the bar immediately. He strolled over and took a seat. He waved over to the bartender.

"Oi! Margarita, classic, por favore."

The woman nodded and turned around to get to work. And like that, Lovino was left alone for some time. He pulled out his phone and went online to see what was happening with the internet.

There was the guy in the panda suit. Yeah, he was definitely American. The guy looked exactly like the American gaming channel he was following. Those eyes and glasses were unmistakable. He scrolled down further to see what others were posting.

Some art, some memes, and was that Kiku singing along to anime? He thought he was supposed to go with them, now that he remembered. Guess not.

The bartender returned and placed Lovino's drink in front of him. He thanked the girl and started drinking. It tasted good, but he preferred the ones they served at the restaurant. Now that he thought about it, the first drink he ever had with Antonio was a margarita.

The Italian frowned at the thought. _"No," _he scolded himself. _"You're here to have fun. Not think about that tomato-loving idiota."_

Lovino sighed as he took another sip of his drink. New plan: get as wasted as possible and have some fucking fun for once.

The brunette became so focused on his drink that he didn't notice someone sit next to him, smiling, until the stranger spoke up.

"Hello," they greeted. "I see you really like that drink there."

Lovino pulled the drink away from his lips and turned to them, his surprised expression stretching the man's grin.

The man was tall—taller than Lovino at least, but, then again, who wasn't?—and had perfectly tanned skin. His hair was curly and dark and pulled back into a short, loose ponytail. He wore a black button-up with white polka dots and some of the top buttons undone, revealing a muscular chest. Black jeans followed along with black brogue shoes.

And those eyes. They were some of the greenest eyes he'd ever seen.

_"He looks...just like Antonio..."_ Lovino thought. He shook his head, suddenly realizing what he just said to himself. _"No! No. Even if he looks like him, I'm not here for that. Fun, damn it Lovino, you're here for fun!"_

The Italian only scowled at the man. He wasn't in the mood for making friends. "Who the hell are you?" he snapped.

The man's grin never faltered. "I'm João. Your name is...?"

Lovino considered being sarcastic but changed his mind just as his mouth opened. "Lovino," he said. "Lovino Vargas."

_"Wait, why did I give him my fucking name?"_

"Lovino," the man, João, purred. "It's beautiful. Just like you."

João winked at the shorter man. Lovino instinctively blushed, but huffed and turned back to his drink in an effort to hide it.

"If that was your pickup line, it needs some work."

The other laughed. Lovino turned back to him, noticing how he threw his head back and hollered. A smile suddenly etched onto his face.

"You're funny. So, how about that drink?" João offered again.

Lovino gave a short nod. "But not this," he said, lifting his margarita. "Don't know why I bought it. It doesn't taste the same as back in Rome."

"Italian?" João asked.

"Si," he said. "You?"

"Portuguese."

"Ah. So almost a Spanish bastard." This made Lovino and João both chuckle.

"Well, my mother is from Madrid. But that's not important." João turned to the bartender. "Two shots of whiskey over here, por favor!"

The bartender gave a thumbs up and went to work like before. João turned back to Lovino.

"While we wait for those, I've got something to ask you."

Lovino, though unsure of what exactly the man was asking, muttered a quick, "Sure."

"So, what brought you here tonight? Rome's pretty far from this city."

"Well," Lovino started. "First, I don't live directly in Rome. Just a little to the north of it. I work there, though."

João's eyes went wide. "Oh?"

A nod came in response. "My, uh, friend, I guess you could call him, owns a restaurant not far from the Vatican. He's more my brother's friend than mine. In fact, that little bastardo is the reason why I'm here."

"Um... Your brother or your friend?" the taller brunette asked. "Just to clarify."

"Whiskey. Two shots."

The pair looked up to see the bartender slide them their drinks, and Lovino grabbed his immediately. This was going to be a long night. He felt it in his bones. So he threw his head back and poured the burning liquor down his throat. He hissed as he placed the glass back down, instinctively gagging at the sensation. He didn't drink whiskey often.

"My brother," he said, answering the man's question. "Can we get more?"

The bartender nodded before disappearing again. Lovino let out a sigh. He placed his head in his hands as he continued with the story.

"His name's Feliciano. I guess he thought I was working too hard and stressing too much over my boyfriend. Thought I needed a night out to have 'fun'. Only ten minutes in here and I'm already failing that."

João frowned when Lovino mentioned having a partner, but the expression left as quickly as it came. It shifted into a look of concern before the Italian could notice.

"Is something going on?" he asked, taking a sip of his whiskey.

Lovino chuckled. "Understatement of the century," he replied. "I love this man, more than anything, but lately he's been...difficult."

"Difficult how?"

"He..." The Italian sucked in a breath. God, he prayed the lady came back with another shot. "He hasn't been himself lately. He was so cheerful. It honestly got annoying how childish and carefree he was. 'Stop spending so much!' I used to tell him. He would always take me out and buy me gifts, and we saw each other nearly every day."

João dared asked another question. "Then what?"

Lovino bit his lip, his eyes shut, and his head slowly descended. Thankfully, the bartender came back with two more shots. He gulped both down as quickly as he could.

"It happened after the recession. We started seeing less of each other. He'd disappear whenever I tried visiting. Tried finding him at work, but his boss said he didn't even show up. When he was home, he was already drunk when I walked through the door.

"We always ended up fighting. I'd ask him what was going on, he'd tell me to buzz off, I'd scream, then he'd scream, and then I'd leave." Lovino felt his eyes sting at the thought. "He... He never yelled at me before. Never cursed me out, never did half the things he's suddenly doing. It's like he's a totally different person..."

João gave a nod. He looked away from Lovino and sighed. He motioned for the bartender to bring more drinks. It really was going to be a long night.

"I understand," he told him, taking a shot as the woman gave them more to drink. "I lost my job when it happened, and, shit, it sucked. But I don't think he should ignore you, regardless of how stressed he feels."

"I know right?" Lovino downed another shot. He suddenly started to feel tipsy, and with it mixed in with the aching in his chest he didn't feel so great. "I don't even know what we are anymore."

João gave no response to that. He only took another drink. At this point, the bartender just kept making them shot after shot. And, shot after shot, they drank. Eventually, Lovino felt the ache leave him. He was as light as a feather now. At some point, João invited him to dance on the floor just as Daddy Yankee's "Dura" began to play.

Lovino felt himself be dragged away from the bar, his laughter drowned out by the music and shouting people singing along, until they found a good spot. As the two of them danced, suddenly grinding on one another like the rest of the crowd, the Italian took the time to notice more of João's features.

Yes, it was true he looked a lot like the man he was spending the night to forget, just for a sliver of a moment, but something about the Portuguese man was special. Unique only to him.

Again, he felt pulled in by that face. Specifically those eyes. Antonio's was much more cheerful and childlike, big and round and full of wonder. João's had a sense of maturity in them. His were smaller, more narrow, and filled to the brim with mystery. Lovino felt himself blush as he stared into them.

Lovino was only pulled out of his trance by the man's voice. "Hey, I have to head back to my hotel room," he said, having to shout over the others around them. "But you're welcome to join me if you wish."

Without hesitation, Lovino nodded. João smiled and grabbed the Italian by the hand, leading him through the crowded dance floor and out of the club. Lovino could only hear the beating of his heart now as they left and called for a taxi. When it arrived, they climbed in and headed out.


	4. Mistakes

_**Chapter 4: Mistakes**_

* * *

Lovino and João stumbled into the room, the door shutting behind them. The taller man turned around to lock it before focusing back on Lovino. In less than a minute he was pulling the Italian closer and pressed their lips together. Lovino, too drunk to register what was going on, gave in to the feeling.

He clung to João as their bodies pressed flushed together. The latter was etching him backward until the brunette fell onto the bed with a laugh. João laughed with him. Then, he climbed on and crawled over Lovino with a grin on his face.

Lovino could barely see in the room. They didn't bother to turn on the lights, or pull back a few curtains. He could only feel, hear, smell, and taste. Those senses alone were enough to excite him. The one thing he could see, however, was João's alluring eyes. The same eyes that drew him back at the club just hours prior.

João reached down to lick and Lovino's neck, causing him to shudder. "Are you sure you want to do this?" the man asked.

"Si." Nothing else. Just a simple word was what Lovino gave him. He feared if he said anything else, like how he wanted to forget a certain someone—the name was lost to him now, however, so he couldn't say who he wanted to ignore in this moment—or how he wanted to be claimed by another for just one evening, he'd ruin the moment.

So João took the word and let it fuel him. He continued to lap at the Italian's neck, switching being that and planting a trail of butterfly kisses up to his jaw, while he undressed the man beneath him. Lovino did the same, ripping off the rest of the buttons left untouched at the club until João was now shirtless.

He was even more beautiful then. He wasn't as muscular as he first appeared to be. His arms were fairly lean, though his biceps were rather built, and he certainly didn't have a six-pack. But he was handsome and gorgeous in his own right. Lovino couldn't help but grab the back of his neck and pull him down for another kiss.

The evening went on with Lovino mewling João's name well into the night.

* * *

Antonio sat in his recliner, lifting the neck of the bottle to his lips, as he stared at the clock above his bookshelf. They should have been here by now.

The Spaniard sighed. He got up and threw the empty whiskey bottle into the garbage can. He originally planned to go out again, but his boyfriend's voice continuously echoed in the back of his mind. Had he really been ignoring Lovnio? Maybe it was all the clubbing he'd been doing recently. He never heard his phone ring while he was out, dancing and drinking and watching pretty girls dance on poles.

Maybe that was why he called Francis and Gilbert and canceled their plans. Instead, he told them to come over and that he needed advice. So where the hell were they?

Just as Antonio walked back into the living room, the doorbell rang. He waltzed over and unlocked the door, swinging it open to reveal his two best friends.

"Mon ami," Francis greeted. "You look..."

"Like shit," Gilbert finished. "Fucking Christ, man, what happened?"

Antonio scowled. "Come in. I'll explain."

Gilbert and Francis nodded, walking in as Antonio retreated back to his recliner. They closed the door and took a seat on the couch. Antonio held his head in his hands as he let out a heavy and shaky breath.

"Amigos," he said. "I don't know anymore."

"Huh?"

"Have I really been ignoring Lovi?" the brunette asked.

Francis and Gilbert exchanged a look. Both of their expressions were confused, and they turned back to their friend with forced smiles.

"Antonio, you _have_ been going out a lot lately," Francis told him.

"We almost never see you with the guy anymore. Why? What happened?"

Antonio sighed. "We've been...fighting. A lot. And he made some points..."

Francis frowned. "Mon ami, you're stressed from work. You deserve a little fun. Sure, you should spend more time with him than you have been doing, but not every second of the day."

"Fran's right," Gilbert butted in. "Besides, aren't you working for...you know?"

"Si. But I can't help feeling guilty." Antonio leaned back in his seat. "I think I should just go out once a week. And no strip clubs."

Gilbert sighed in what sounded like relief while Francis couldn't help but sigh as well. "If that's what you want," the Frenchman said. "But it won't be as fun without you there."

"Hey, look on the bright side Francis." Gilbert chuckled as he spoke. "At least you get the girls to yourself!"

Antonio laughed at his friend's joke, though not as loud as Gilbert was laughing, and he smiled to himself. He stood up from his seat and grinned something wide. With his hands on his hips, he declared, "I'll go see Lovino tomorrow. Take him out somewhere nice to make up for everything."

"I suggest you take a plane then," Gilbert replied.

"Oui. Takes far too long by car."

"Yeah, man! Just move already! It's so hard to get to you over here! If you lived with them, Francis and I could just spend an hour at most getting to you!"

"Guys," Antonio groaned. "You know I don't have the money to move."

"You won't need it if you just marry the guy."

"Gilbert!"

The German and Frenchman both bursted into fits of laughter as their friend's face flushed in embarrassment. Antonio sat back down as their chuckling died down.

"If you're done laughing at me," he said to them. "Who's up for some football?"

"Me!" both men shouted.

"I'll get the beer," Gilbert said as he raced into the kitchen. "But no more for you, Antonio!"

"Oui," added Francis. "I could see from the garbage that you've had enough for the night. But I'll go fix us a snack."

Antonio smiled at them. "Gracias, amigos. Don't know what I'd do without you!"

Francis opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly shut down by a glare from Gilbert in the kitchen. The Frenchman silenced himself and went on towards culinary creation. For the rest of the night, the three friends drank—excluding Antonio—and ate while watching their favorite sport.

Tomorrow, Antonio was sure, would bring something better.


End file.
